Family Adventures, foreign and domestic.

September 25, 2007

Book Review: The Little Black Book of Style

I recently joined the Parent Bloggers Network, a great network of sites that have banded together to review books and products of interest to parents. So far, I've either been too busy or not quite the right demographic for most of the products offered. When Julie and Kristen sent an e-mail asking for reviewers of Nina Garcia's new book, The Little Black Book of Style, my virtual hand shot up and I shouted, "Pick me! Pick me!"

Okay, maybe I just sent them an e-mail really, really fast, but you get the idea. I was eager to get my hands on this one, for several reasons:

1. I am a total, unabashed, unashamed to say-it-out-loud fan of Project Runway. 2. I love Nina Garcia's sometimes bitchy, yet usually spot-on analysis of the designs. 3. I am completely and utterly devoid of any fashion sense whatsoever.

So, those three things combined made me a willing participant in this review. I was expecting a short, concise, utilitarian black book of pointers on how to avoid being a Glamour Don't (or in this case, an ElleDon't) for someone who doesn't know Oscar de la Renta from Oscar de la Hoya. I was hoping for something with a cheat-sheet I could tear out and take along with me to Nordstroms or Target, and be able to find some things to assemble a decent work wardrobe, to replace the yoga-pants and big t-shirt SAHM Uniform and the boxy, shapeless Working Mom business suits and twin sets with slacks. Instead, I got a fun, rambling book of fashion philosophy. Oh, with some practical advice thrown in for good measure.

The book is illustrated with cartoonish line drawings reminiscent of one of Madonna's Children's Books, with cute, colorful drawings by someone named Raul Toledo. The drawings accompany cute, colorful stories of Garcia's childhood in Colombia, traveling the world with her parents, and being the only fashionista in a prep school full of field-hockey players in LL Bean duck boots. Her prep school story reminded me of a girl I knew at Barnard, a beautiful Puerto Rican princesa whose family owned some kind of plantation or another, who arrived with 6 trunks of designer clothes from Milan. By the end of the first semester, she was wearing polo shirts and chinos like everyone else. Preppy was in back in those days. It wasn't just a fashion, it was a uniform.

After some tales of how she got to be so uber-fashionable (her mom was a fashionista, so it's in her genes), Garcia gets down to the nitty-gritty: 10 things every woman should have in her closet. I read through the list (white men's shirt, trench coat, little black dress, black pumps, ballet flats, jeans, etc.) and thought, "Holy Coco Chanel, Batman!...I used to be totally fashionable! I didn't even know it!"

Yes, it's true. Garcia's list of 10 were exactly the things I used to wear in college and through my 20's. In fact, I had a trenchcoat in high school. I was considered something of a freak for wearing a trenchcoat in rural Ohio, but I loved it and there was no parting me from my super-cool, super-spy look. I need to dig that vintage gem out of my closet toute de suite.

Anyway, somewhere along the line, I abandoned all of those items for the aforementioned comfortable and schlumpy SAHM uniform. Where did I go wrong? When exactly did I trade in my sling-back pumps and platforms for Teva sandals and clunky Rockport clown shoes? I think that was probably around the time that my feet grew from size 7 1/2 to size 9 after pregnancy and never went back to their former shape. Yes, carrying a 10 pound baby will do that to a person.

Overall, I liked Garcia's book. Some of the celebrity fashion advice I found hilarious, like Michael Kors' assertion that the one item every woman needs in her wardrobe is a pair of 4-inch stilleto-heeled crocodile pumps. The day Michael Kors is able to do a 7:00 am conference call, make breakfast, make the beds, race to an 8:15 school drop-off, go to work for 8 hours, go home for lunch to start the laundry, pick up the kid, go to soccer practice, make dinner, and clean up afterwards in a pair of crocodile stilettos, I'll believe he knows what's best for me. Until then, I'm sticking with my Tevas.

The one bit of take-away advice that I did think was "one size fits all" was this: No matter what you're wearing, confidence is your best accessory. If you don't feel good inside, it doesn't matter if you buy your clothes at Gucci or Goodwill. It's like your mother always told you: It's what's inside that counts.

Who knew Mom was so fashion-forward?

Disclosure: I received a free review copy of this book in exchange for reading and reviewing it, thanks to the Parent Bloggers Network.

Comments

Book Review: The Little Black Book of Style

I recently joined the Parent Bloggers Network, a great network of sites that have banded together to review books and products of interest to parents. So far, I've either been too busy or not quite the right demographic for most of the products offered. When Julie and Kristen sent an e-mail asking for reviewers of Nina Garcia's new book, The Little Black Book of Style, my virtual hand shot up and I shouted, "Pick me! Pick me!"

Okay, maybe I just sent them an e-mail really, really fast, but you get the idea. I was eager to get my hands on this one, for several reasons:

1. I am a total, unabashed, unashamed to say-it-out-loud fan of Project Runway. 2. I love Nina Garcia's sometimes bitchy, yet usually spot-on analysis of the designs. 3. I am completely and utterly devoid of any fashion sense whatsoever.

So, those three things combined made me a willing participant in this review. I was expecting a short, concise, utilitarian black book of pointers on how to avoid being a Glamour Don't (or in this case, an ElleDon't) for someone who doesn't know Oscar de la Renta from Oscar de la Hoya. I was hoping for something with a cheat-sheet I could tear out and take along with me to Nordstroms or Target, and be able to find some things to assemble a decent work wardrobe, to replace the yoga-pants and big t-shirt SAHM Uniform and the boxy, shapeless Working Mom business suits and twin sets with slacks. Instead, I got a fun, rambling book of fashion philosophy. Oh, with some practical advice thrown in for good measure.